Surrogate Sisters
by gracewright
Summary: Bobby has taken in many kids over the years, but only a few have become his surrogate children; Sam and Dean, and two sisters. The sisters get into trouble on a hunt and Bobby calls the only other hunters he trusts: the Winchester brothers. Will the boys bond with these siblings? Or will Sam and especially Dean be destroyed by them? Hurt/tortured/caring-Dean Worried/caring-Sam
1. Have You Met My Daughters?

_**Hello everyone! It's been a while since I've written anything, so I'm trying to ease into it **____** This is a preview of the story, so if you like it please leave a comment and review! *Entire sentences in italics are someone's thoughts* **_

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He'd always looked after Dean and Sam, and no doubt that they held a special place in his heart. But they were just a couple of the children that had stayed with him over the years, and currently, he was trying to help a couple of the others.

"For God's sake girl! You hold still or I'll actually try to hurt you," Bobby muttered for what seemed like the hundredth time in just a few minutes. His patient stilled for a short while but quickly resumed her squirming, this time hollering at the figure across the room.

"Shit! Taylor, give me that beer," she demanded, bloody hand already outstretched expectantly. Taylor moved across the room, and went to hand over the bottle of Heineken she was currently drinking from. At the last second though she snatched it back.

"Nope. Sorry sister, but alcohol would only make you bleed more not less. Which would suck since I'm probably gonna be the one stuck cleaning it up."

With a frustrated huff, Bobby jammed the needle he was using roughly through her skin and tugged the black thread taught, sealing up the gash that zig-zagged across her shoulder blades. "Camie, I mean it. I can make this worse," he spoke sternly to the now writhing woman on the couch.

"Okay, okay!" she gasped as Bobby settled back into stitching her up.

"Now how about you ladies tell me how this happened," he said, shooting a glance between the two.

"She was just being a dumb-ass," Taylor, the oldest by three years grumbled to herself, lifting the beer to her lips and glaring at her younger sister over the rim.

"Dumb-ass?! Try saving your ass! If it weren't for me, you'd be unrecognizable right now," came the sharp reply.

"Alright, enough! Start from the beginning Taylor," Bobby spoke up, effectively silencing both of them.

"We found some newspaper articles talking about weird deaths in Minnesota, like walls falling on people and death by shoelace. We headed out there several days ago but we weren't getting anywhere. The locals didn't know anything so we were considering leaving. A couple days ago though, we spoke with the latest victim's neighbor. I don't know why, but she made us uncomfortable. We were tailing her when yesterday, we followed her out to this warehouse. Turns out she was a witch, and her coven jumped us. She was going to roast me with a spell, but Camie got to me first and ended up getting her back sliced open by one of the witches as we high tailed it outta there." Taylor finished her story with a heavy sigh and a swig of beer.

Bobby shook his head as he tied off the thread. These sisters had a way of getting into the kind of trouble he thought only Winchesters were capable of.

"Thanks for patching me up Bobby, and sorry about dropping in like that. We needed some place to regroup before nailing those bitches," Camie said as she gingerly sat up. He turned around quickly as she settled her shirt back in place.

"Good God girl! Don't you have a shred of decency?"

"What'cha mean? You're like family! And besides, You've had to stitch me up enough that you've seen it all anyway," she replied with a slight shrug that had her gritting her teeth in pain as her body was reminded of the new wound.

Bobby stood and stretched on his way to the kitchen. "I'm gonna go make some calls. Seems like you two idjits might need some help." _Yep,_ he thought to himself. He had the perfect hunters in mind. Bout damn time his surrogate kids met each other anyway, he thought as he pulled up Dean's number.

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_**So? What do you think? If you liked what you read and would like to read more, please leave a review! I apologize for any grammatical mistakes. Also, though this first one has heavy emphasis on the sisters, the next chapters are gonna be more on the brothers. Thanks so much!**_


	2. Bring the Boys Out

_**So here's the second chapter of this story! Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you all like this. . . But first, a recap.**_

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**Recap**

Bobby stood and stretched on his way to the kitchen. "I'm gonna go make some calls. Seems like you two idjits might need some help." _Yep,_ he thought to himself. He had the perfect hunters in mind. Bout damn time his surrogate kids met each other anyway, he thought as he pulled up Dean's number.

**Dean POV**

It's two in the morning, and I had just managed to fall asleep when my phone rings. I groan as I roll over and grab it, the screen lighting up with Bobby's name. We'd just finished a crazy hunt involving werewolves _and_ vampires that made the Twilight saga look boring, and all I want is to sleep. But if Bobby sees fit to call this early, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it's important.

"Hello," I answer, my voice rough with exhaustion. Bobby's voice filters through the phone, sounding as tired as I feel.

"Hey son, sorry for calling so late."

"Not a problem. What are you calling about?" I ask as I walk to the bathroom and close the door so the phone call won't wake Sam.

"Well, I got some hunters here who could use your help on a job they started in Minnesota. They got pretty banged up and needed an extra set of hands." He replied, and it didn't slip past me that there was affection in his voice as he talked about them.

"What are we talking about here Bobby?" He sighs heavily, and I know I'm not gonna like his answer.

"Coven of witches, they've been killing people in Blue Earth."

I run my hand over my face. _Sonnuva bitch! _ Bobby continues, unaware of my mental outburst.

"If you boys could get see fit to head over here in the morning, I can introduce you. You working on anything else right now?"

"Nah, we just finished up. We can head over in the morning," I sigh.

"Great! See ya then," he says, and I can tell he's about to hang up.

"Bobby!" I say quickly, making him pause. "You sound like these hunters mean something special to you . . . If you don't mind me asking, why are you so concerned about them? This doesn't sound like a super hard job. I know you mentioned that they got torn up, but so do a lot of other hunters." I sit waiting for an answer, not really thinking that I'd get one. Just when I think he's hung up on me, I hear him huff quietly.

"They remind me a lot of you and Sam. Siblings hunting with no parents in the picture anymore. Personalities are similar too."

"So?" I question. "Sorry Bobby, but you know we can take care of ourselves, so chances are these guys can too."

"No you moron! It's different with them. For starters they're sisters not brothers, and while I'm all for women's rights, hunting is a hard life for a couple of girls and you know I'm right. Secondly, they're younger than you boys were when you started hunting without yer daddy."

I stand for a second, just taking that in. Hunting is hard enough as a man and damn near impossible as a woman. Not to mention sisters . . . Well, it was rare to say the least. Coming back to the present I ask, "How old are they?"

"The oldest just turned 20, and the younger is 17." _Holy shit that's young!_

"And you're letting them hunt?!" I practically shout.

"Oh sure, I tried forcing them to stay, but it's like talking to a brick wall. I have experience in that," he mutters sarcastically. I his pointed remark and massage my forehead in frustration.

"Okay, we'll be there soon."

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Sunlight wakes me up, spilling in through the crappy motel curtains. My eyes flicker over to the clock, and seeing 8:32 flashing slowly, I force my tired mind out of the security of sleep. "Sam," I call, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, voice gravelly from disuse. "Sam!" I call again, grabbing a pillow and smacking him in the face. A muffled string of curse words comes from beneath the pillow as I saunter over to the coffee maker and begin setting it up. Sam sits up, his long fluffy hair bushing out around his head. He tiredly scrubs his eyes and staggers to the coffee pot which is already beginning to fill. I grab a mug and fill it for him so he can't burn himself. _He's so frigging uncoordinated when he's tired, _I shake my head, handing him the cup and steering him over to a chair in the corner. After a few sips I can see his eyes lose their glazed look as he slowly wakes up and takes in his surroundings.

"So Bobby called last night. He wants us to meet up with a couple hunters at his place, help them finish a job over in Minnesota," I say as I grab another mug for myself. Sam nods taking in the information before responding.

"Have we met them before?"

I shake my head, sipping from my blistering hot coffee. "Nope, but Bobby vouches for 'em, gave me a few basics on them, but not much." When he stares at me expectantly, I continue. "Apparently they're sisters, 17 and 20, they usually work alone, but they got into trouble on a hunt and could use some help." I try to make it sound casual, but Sam nearly spews coffee across the room anyways.

"17 and 20?!" he sputters, trying to catch his breath. "Bobby's letting them hunt alone?" Sam flexes his fingers with anger, and even though I agree with him, I can't let Bobby get blamed for this.

"Oh come on Sam! We started hunting way earlier than that. Besides, they're not really alone, they do have each other."

"That's bullshit Dean. Dad never let us hunt without him, not while I was still a teenager. It was the one thing he did right!" I sigh heavily and take a gulp of coffee.

"Well Bobby said he's tried making them quit, but they wouldn't listen." Sam glares at me and I shrug. "Look Sammy, if they want to be stubborn that's their fault not his. Let's just get over there and help as best we can." He grumbles under his breath, but doesn't say anything else as he grabs his bag and heads for the bathroom. I roll my eyes and start packing my stuff. He won't stay mad at Bobby for long; the only person he's truly capable of holding a grudge against is our dad. Sammy makes a good point though. Our lives have been hell in large part due to how we were raised, but dad at the very least never let us hunt on our own. It makes me curious about these hunters' lives.

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_**Well that's chapter 2 for ya! Hope you enjoyed. . . Please leave a review and thanks for reading! The next chapter should be up soon-ish, but posting times may vary due to my college schedule. Apologies in advance *humble bow***_


	3. First Impressions

_**Hello again, and once more I'm sorry about the longer time for uploading! College is new to me and is still kicking my butt :3 As always, please leave a review if you like what you read; they're very encouraging!**_

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**Recap**

He won't stay mad at Bobby for long; the only person he's truly capable of holding a grudge against is our dad. Sammy makes a good point though. Our lives have been hell in large part due to how we were raised, but dad at the very least never let us hunt on our own. It makes me curious about these hunters' lives.

**Bobby POV**

I'm downstairs making lunch when I hear someone coming down the stairs. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Taylor enter the kitchen, black curly hair still wet from her shower. She leans against the doorframe and looks around in confusion. "Where's Camie? She's not upstairs, so I thought she'd be in here with you." I shake my head and rummage around my shelves for a cutting board.

"Nah, that girl's out in the yard entertaining the dog." She nods slowly and takes a seat at the table, opening up a book on spells and hexes. The phone rings and I set down the tomato I was gonna slice, opting instead to answer the phone. "Singer salvage," I say.

"Hiya Bobby," Dean's voice echoes down the phone. "I just called to say we should be there in a couple hours. Wanted to give you a heads up so you don't shoot us." I can hear the humor in his voice, but that don't mean I'm gonna let it slide.

"That's _real_ funny Dean. Just get yer asses over here in one piece." I hang the phone up and chuckle to myself. Taylor looks up from her book and smirks.

"Well I'm glad we aren't the only ones who can get that reaction." I glare at her and she holds her hands up in surrender. "Just saying," she mutters.

"Yeah, sure ya were. Go tell yer sister that lunch is ready," I direct. She closes her book and leaves in search of Camie.

**Sam POV**

We've been driving since 9 this morning and it's already nearing 4 o'clock. I sigh and try to find a way to stretch my legs out. Unfortunately though, this car wasn't designed for anyone over 5'9''. I glance at Dean cause although he's been driving in relative silence, I know he's got to be feeling pretty cramped right now. "Hey Dean, lets pull off for a bit at the next gas station," I suggest, my voice creaky from not speaking for a while. He take his eyes off the road just long enough to check the gas levels and nods his head ever so slightly.

"Yeah, baby could use a fuel stop," he agrees. Relieved, I settle back in the seat and let my thoughts take over. I understand that Bobby knows these girls, but that doesn't mean that I feel completely comfortable just trusting them to have our backs on a hunt. And then there's the question that been bugging me for a while now; _how_ does Bobby know them? I mean, he knows us because we lived with him on and off for so long. I suppose it's possible that they did too, but I always assumed we were the only kids he looked after. Not sure why I think that though.

The only reason why I'm not objecting to this is because I trust Bobby; if it weren't for that, I'd be demanding we turn the car around. I sneak another look at Dean as we turn into a BP station. He has total faith in Bobby, and I know that even though he's never met these hunters, he'll do everything in his power to help them on Bobby's word. I'm brought out of my thoughts when Dean bangs on my window making me jump. I open the door and climb out, joints popping back into place as I stretch my 6'4'' frame.

"You seemed pretty deep in thought there Sasquatch. Something you wanna share with the class?" Dean questions while he inserts the nozzle into the gas tank. I start to shake my head, but reconsider and cautiously clear my throat.

"Well, I just don't know if we can trust these hunters. We've never met them to our knowledge, not to mention that we don't even know their names!" I sigh in frustration and run a hand through my unruly hair. He shoots me a look before replying about like I expected.

"You're right, we don't know them. But we do know Bobby, and he would never put us in danger by partnering us with hunters he didn't trust. So we're going to help and that's all there is to it Sam."

I hold up my hands in an appeasing gesture. "Alright! That's why I didn't even suggest turning the car around." He nods apparently satisfied, and goes in to pay for the gas. When he comes back out, we climb in the car and pull back onto the road. My eyes find their way to the clock; 45 minutes left to drive.

**Bobby POV**

_Those boys should be getting here pretty soon_, I think when the clock catches my eye reading 4:37. My eyes then move around the study locating the girls. Taylor's reading again though it's a different book, this one about what looks like prehistoric art. Shaking my head, I keep looking till I see Camie over at the computer, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the desk. I watch her get more and more agitated until she finally stands up and heads for the door. "I'm going out for a smoke," she tosses over her shoulder as the door slams shut behind her.

I look at Taylor again, a confused expression plastered on my face. "I thought you got her to quit that habit?" She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily, running a hand over her bruised face (courtesy of the witches).

"Yeah, I did. We had a tough job a while back though, and she started again. But hey, when she's dying of lung cancer in a hospital bed at 30, I can tell her I told you so." It's my turn to roll my eyes now. These girls are still so young and already up shit creek without a paddle when it comes to vices. _The older drinks, and the younger drinks and smokes. They have such a peachy future ahead of them._ Taylor stares at the door for a second as if deciding something, before gently shaking her head and going back to her book. _She was probably thinking if she wanted to go stop her sister._ I agree with her choice though, there's no way Camie would listen to her. She'd just get defensive which would make Taylor snarky, which would lead to a fight I'd have to break up and quite frankly, I am tired of getting involved in sibling disputes. Just then I hear the familiar rumble of a 67' chevy pull up to the house.

**Dean POV**

We pull up at Bobby's house and the first thing that catches my eye as I step from the car is the young woman perched on the hood of a junker, smoking a cigarette. She looks like she's tall, maybe 5'10'' and muscular, though the muscle does little to disguise her curvy (dare I say slightly chubby) figure. Don't get me wrong, she isn't fat far from it, but her figure is definitely feminine. After that observation, I take in the rest of her appearance. She's wearing a black wife beater and ratty black shorts, her feet bare. The outfit shows off her multiple tattoos . . . and boy do I mean multiple. Her fingers, wrists, forearms, chest, legs, and feet are sporting the creative body art. Finally, my eyes travel upwards to her head and . . . Good God, there are really no words. Her hair is long and frizzy, most likely due to continuous beaching and coloring. I mean shit! Her hair is not one, not two, hell, not even five, but at least ten different neon colors. It looks like someone has poured melted candy over her head. The colors trickle in blues and purples down past the multiple piercings in her ears, finally ending in lime green at her elbows. My gaze moves to her face, landing on a nose ring before finding her eyes and lingering there for a moment. Like mine, her eyes are green; however unlike my sharp forest green, hers border on gold. They stand out due to a thick black ring that circles the iris, as well as her suntanned skin.

She moves from her position by the car and, cigarette in hand, starts walking towards us. By this time Sam has gotten out of the car and gotten a good look at her. We exchange shocked glances as she finally reaches us.

"I'm assuming you're the hunters Bobby called in as backup?" She asks, and it's only then that we can see the deep bruising along her jaw and collarbone.

"That'd be us," I answer with a grin as I hear the front door open followed by Bobby's familiar voice.

"Glad you boys' are here. Come on inside and we'll do introductions. You come in too," he orders pointing at the girl before turning back inside. We start walking towards the house, hearing a mumbled "yeah, yeah" behind us as we do.

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_**So there you have it! Next chapter you meet the other sister and learn a bit about their story. Also, you get to see the boys from the sisters' perspective! Please review!**_


	4. More In Common Than Not

_**Hello all! So sorry that this is being uploaded so late, but I'm starting final projects for all my classes and they're kicking my butt :3 Thanks for the reviews and favorites. . . Here ya'll go!**_

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**Recap**

"Glad you boys are here. Come on inside and we'll do introductions. You come too," he orders pointing at the girl before turning back inside. We both start walking towards the house, hearing a muttered "yeah, yeah" behind us as we do.

**Dean POV**

We step inside and are immediately assaulted by the familiar smells of leather, paper and booze. Following Bobby into the study, we see the other sister sitting in one of Bobby's arm chairs reading . . . does that say prehistoric art? These two women look about as similar as apples and oranges. Where the other woman has a decent figure, this one has curves for miles. She looks to be shorter than her sister, maybe 5'8''. She's wearing long black jeans and a Bauhaus t-shirt, feet covered with red and black socks. I can see one tattoo on the inside of her arm, but otherwise her pale (like haven't seen the sun in years pale) skin is ink free. Her hair is long, black, and _very_ curly, falling in thick corkscrews down to her waist. She's got less piercings than her sister too; the only one that catches my attention is a black (seems to be a theme with them) septum ring. Finally I see her eyes, and just like her sister's, they capture your attention; a startling crystal blue rimmed with black.

When we come to a halt in the doorway, she closes the book and her sister steps around Sam and I to join her. Bobby's standing off to the side a bit as he starts the introductions.

"Girls, these are Sam and Dean Winchester. They've agreed to help ya finish the hunt," he points to each of us as he says our names. Clearing his throat he sets about introducing the sisters. "These are Camden," he motions to 'candy hair', "and Taylor," motioning to 'snow white'. I wait for him to give us their last name, but it doesn't come.

"No last name?" Sam sounds confused, his voice lowering in pitch. Bobby clears his throat again and shifts his weight, looking uncomfortable.

"Well, that's a bit of a difficult thing," he hems, remaining silent until Taylor speaks up.

"Our last name is Wright, but all our official documents say Singer."

"Wait, what?!" My eyes narrow and I whip my glare over to Bobby.

"They lived with me for a couple a' years till Taylor turned 18 and could legally look after Camden," He explains seeming a little embarrassed at not having told us before now. _Good! For crying out loud, that's a pretty big thing to never mention!_

"When did this happen?" Sam questions his face still registering shock.

"They came to live with me the same year I booted yer daddy out with the touchy end of my shotgun." I watch the sister's faces as he says this, and notice their surprise. _If only they knew exactly how much history there really is between our family and Bobby. _My lips thin and I nod my head.

"That explains it."

We stand there in silence for a minute before Bobby cuts it. "Now that that's over, ya'll should get to know each other. I need to speak with you boys first though," he says pointing to the kitchen. We follow him in and he shuts the door after us.

He stares at us intently for a while then says, "You know you boys are like my sons right?" I nod slowly and share a look with Sam. _Where is this going?_

"Yeah Bobby, we know."

He crosses his arms. "Good. Since you realize that, there's something else you should know. Those girls in there are like my daughters." He takes a breath and fixes us with a signature Bobby glare. "In other words, you hurt them in any way and we'll have a problem. I'll make sure they know the same goes for you two." With that he pivots and marches back into the study with a "wait here for a second" tossed over his shoulder.

I turn so I'm face to face with Sam and we just look at each other before he says what we're both thinking. "What exactly happened between them?" I shake my head, for once completely without answers.

"I don't know Sammy. But I can tell you right now that I'm going to figure it out." He nods his head, silently agreeing with me just as Bobby walks back in.

"You go on in there. I'll give ya'll some time by yerselves to get to know each other," he says shooing us towards the door we originally had come through. We step into the study and see Camden and Taylor sitting on the couch. Taking a deep breath, I step forward and pull up a desk chair leaving the arm chair for Sam.

**Camden POV**

If I was curious about these guys before, then I'm dying now after Bobby just threatened to disown us if we ever hurt them. I shift a little closer to Taylor, trying to borrow a little of her seeming calm around these strangers. I'm trying really hard to act confidant and it's working, but as per my usual, I'm extremely uncomfortable. I saw the boys out in the yard when they first got here, but I didn't really get a chance to 'look' at them. Now that I'm sitting across from them, I can study all their features and, damn! The Winchester boys are fine! Although, they're fixing me and Taylor with some pretty unwavering attention and I gotta say it's making me uncomfortable.

One of them, Dean if I remember correctly, clears his throat and I can tell he's gonna start what'll probably be an interrogation. "So, you used to live with Bobby? Are your parents hunters?" he asks, his voice straining to sound normal but failing miserably. There's an awkward silence as Taylor and I share a look, deciding what to say.

Finally she says, "No, our parents died when Camie was 3." More awkward silence then Sam intervenes.

"I'm so sorry! Uh, do you mind if I ask how they died?"

Taylor glances at me and I realize that it's my turn to answer. "Our dad came home one night and made us watch as he beat our mother to death with a meat tenderizer, then slit his own throat." I look up and see traces of horror and revulsion on their faces. "He was possessed," I say in belated explanation. The brothers nod their heads as our father's actions suddenly make sense. Leaning back, I flash my teeth in a grin that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "Your turn guys. Yer parents hunters?"

I watch as a pained look flits across Dean's face till it's quickly shut behind a mask of indifference. Sam sees Dean's reaction and purses his lips but answers nonetheless. "Our mom, she . . . she died when Dean was 4 and I was 6 months. Our dad died a couple months ago; he became a hunter after our mom's death." A pause and then, "They were both killed by the same demon."

"Wow, I'm sorry!" Taylor quickly responds, and I Sam gives a nod of acknowledgment. I can tell that this is still a delicate topic for them and rush to change the subject.

"So, how old are both of you?" Dean catches the sudden change in topic and smiles his thanks.

"I'm 26 and Sammy here's 22. Bobby said you're 20," he points to Taylor who nods, "and 17?" he finishes pointing at me.

"Yep," I agree with a sharp nod which sets my hair flying. Dean looks like he's deciding whether or not to say something, then finally sighing.

"I've been trying to be polite, but I've gotta say this," he starts, ignoring the blistering glare Sam's giving him. "That hair is like a gigantic neon arrow, calling attention to you. How are you managing to stay alive with this job? And now that I'm thinking about it, how do you manage getting info on hunts? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that cops and feds don't have hair like that."

I don't hear any mocking or belittling in his voice, only a little curiosity and amusement. So I push back my automatic defensiveness, as Taylor quietly chuckles and Sam blushes, proof positive that he was curious too. "Well, when we're hunting I wear it up under a hat. And you're right that I can't pass as any type of G-man. My sister passes as the fed, and I'm usually the druggie, dealer, hooker, or other unsavory character." _Yes, I can remember several times even passing as a head hunter . . . although I looked a bit too young for that job._

I watch the brothers think about my answer, and while they do, I take the chance to really look at them. Sam is taller than Dean, though that's not saying much, 'cause they're both huge! Sam's slightly broader with a bulkier frame, but Dean looks to have more muscle in proportion to his size than Sam does. I glance between the two for more points of comparison and notice their eyes and, well, faces in general. Where Dean has piercing green eyes, Sam's are more muted, kinda brownish-bluish hazel. Sam's jaw is square, with strong cheekbones and a broad nose and forehead; definitely masculine, but softened by his long floaty hair. Dean on the other hand has gentle tapered features with an oval face, and high rounded cheekbones. However, while he's clearly masculine, his light dusting of freckles, large eyes, long lashes, and soft mouth give him an androgynous flare. _ If for nothing else, these boys will be great eye candy._

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_**Okay guys that's all I've got right now, I'll try to get more up soon. Please review!**_


	5. Car Rides are a Bitch

_**So sorry about the HUGE wait guys! Finals are trying to murder me *starts panicking* Okay, here's the next chapter. Please Review! They make me happy and let me know people are still reading. . .**_

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**Recap**

I watch the brothers think about my answer, and while they do, I take the chance to really look at them. _If for nothing else, these boys will be great eye candy._

**Sam POV**

These sisters are really weird, I gotta say. Not just weird though, weirdly similar to us. Same type of ridiculously sad backstory, and tough personalities. Camden seems a lot like Dean, and from what I've seen, Taylor seems like me. While I'm still sorting out who's similar to who, Bobby comes marching into the room, massive first aid kit in his hands.

"With all the excitement going on, I nearly forgot about yer wound check and bandage change," he says, addressing Camden. She wrinkles her nose and crosses her arms, mouth opening to reject the caregiving.

"Come on Bobby, I'm fine! Taylor, tell him that nothing is wrong with me!" She whines looking to her sister who I can tell isn't about to take her side on this. Taylor snorts and shakes her head in what I guess is amusement.

"There's plenty wrong with you, but even if we disregard that, you have nearly 160 stitches! So just shut up Camie, and let Bobby fix you."

My mind blanks, only able to hear one part of her response. 1_60 stitches?! That's more than a scratch, more than a little injury._ My eyes narrow and I look more carefully at her, but aside from the deep bruising covering them both, I can't see anything. Which means that it must be covered with clothing. I glance over at Dean and see him checking as well, coming to the same conclusion.

Camden , apparently having lost to her sister and Bobby, leans over so her chest is parallel to the floor and slowly peals her shirt up, leaving her back exposed. A large rectangle of gauze is taped to her shoulder blades, decorated with bloody ooze. I grimace as Bobby carefully removes it and the actual wound makes an appearance. Bobby quickly sets about checking the stitching, smearing ointment on her skin, and taping down fresh gauze.

"Well," I chuckle, "I guess that's why you needed help finishing." Camden (Camie? I don't know anymore) slides her shirt back over the gauze and rolls her eyes at me as she sits up.

**Taylor POV**

I take a deep breath after Camie pulls her shirt back down; that wound is definitely impressive. I'm a little uncomfortable having her finish the hunt, but I suppose that would be why Bobby called in Sam and Dean. Now that I'm thinking about it though. . . "We should probably start thinking about the hunt guys," I say catching Camie's eye. She stands and leaves the room for a second before coming back with a map of Minnesota and our hunting journal.

Dean grabs the map from her and unrolls it on the center coffee table. "I'm guessing this is where you got jumped?" He asks pointing to an industrial area circled in red.

"Yep. And this," I point to a town a few miles from the red circle, "is where the witch we were tailing lives."

The boys nod and Dean re-rolls the map. "Great, we can stay in a motel outside of town."

Sam stands and stretches, his shoulders popping into place. He directs a smile at me, dimples on full display as he asks, "How long are you both gonna need before you're ready to go?"

I stand as well and am once again struck by how freaking tall they are! "We're ready whenever. . . Our bags are still packed from before," I quickly answer, giving him a small smile in return.

"Awesome! Get your stuff brought out and lets hit the road," Dean says, grabbing the map off the table and heading for the door. Sam follows while me and Camie grab our bags from Bobby's spare bedroom.

We step onto the front porch only to hear yelling.

"NO! What's wrong baby?! What hurts?!"

Dean's sitting in his car (I assume it's his; a black vintage impala) and he's clearly upset. He turns the key in the ignition and other than smoke suddenly spewing from the tailpipe, nothing happens.

"Sam! What did you do to her?!" He groans as he steps from the car and gently pets the hood. Sam smirks, sighing dramatically.

"I didn't do anything to the car Dean. But whatever's wrong, you can fix it when we get back."

Camie's ogling their car and I roll my eyes as I nudge her in the direction ours is parked. I pop the trunk and we throw our bags inside. When I turn around I see Sam and Dean (who's looking seriously dejected) coming towards us, bags in hand.

"You ladies mind if we hitch a ride?" Dean asks with what I guess is his attempt at a sexy grin.

"Sure, no problem. We got the room," Camie answers for me. I just shrug my shoulders; I'm fine with anything except. . .

"HEY!" I yell when I see my sister heading for the driver's seat, keys dangling from her fingers. "Nuh-uh, give me the keys." She gives me a look somewhere between a bitch face and puppy dog eyes.

"Come on Taylor! I can drive just fine." I walk over to her throwing on my own bitch face.

"If you can lift your arms over your head then I'll let you drive," I say, knowing that there's no way in hell that she can with that injury. She looks like she's gonna complain, but just hands me the keys and climbs in at the passenger door. The Winchesters luggage joins our own and after saying good-by to Bobby, we all take seats in the car.

**Dean POV**

I know I'm not the best about accepting the modern age, but this time it's justified. These girls drive a friggin' _electric car_! And I'm pretty positive that the majority of what we're listening to (and have been for the past hour) is not music.

Sam is of course thrilled about the car, and is relentlessly pelting the sisters with questions about their gas mileage and how long it runs for. _Honest to God! I'm gonna rename him Samantha if he doesn't cut it out! _ Another of their nameless 'noise' songs comes on and I've finally had enough.

"What do you even call this stuff?! Cause' it's NOT music!" I have to raise my voice, because the volume was turned up with the song change. Camie turns it down a little and swivels in her seat.

"It's called goth music. This song is 'Glowsticks, Neon, and Blood' by Incubus, and is in the subgenre of Industrial/cyber," she says with a smirk at the disgusted look on my face. I know Sam's not enjoying it either, but once more I'm being burned alive by his glare.

"Dean," he hisses (no, I swear to God, he _hisses)_, shooting apologetic glances at our companions. I sigh heavily as I'm forced to sit through a song I'm told is called 'Bela Lugosi's Dead' before a song comes on that restores my faith in humanity.

Blue Oyster Cult 'Don't Fear the Reaper' starts playing and I let out an audible sigh of relief, ignoring the return of the Sam glare. Taylor starts laughing, so it's clear that I didn't piss her off, which leads to me giving Sam a pointed look.

We drive for another couple of hours till she sees a station offering a plug in for electric cars. I open the door, stretching out my legs and hearing the satisfying snap from my knees. Camie's already out and leaning against the car smoking a cigarette. Her eyes close as she puffs away, smoke twisting through the chill air.

Taylor steps from the car, notices her sister smoking and, nose wrinkling in disgust says, "Really Camie? That's so gross. I'm not gonna bathe you when you're too sick to take care of yourself!"

Camie just rolls her eyes and opens her mouth, releasing a giant white cloud. Sam and I look at each other, both thinking the same thing; _It's like looking in a mirror._

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_**Thanks for reading, I'll try to upload again soon! PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks *waves***_


	6. Bad Start

_**OH MY GOSH! I'm so sorry about how long this took me *bows deeply*. Finals and Christmas hit me hard haha. . . okie-dokie, so here we go!**_

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**Recap**

Taylor steps from the car, notices her sister smoking and, nose wrinkling in disgust says, "Really Camie? That's so gross. I'm not gonna bathe you when you're too sick to take care of yourself!"

Camie just rolls her eyes and opens her mouth, releasing a giant white cloud. Sam and I look at each other, both thinking the same thing; _It's like looking in a mirror._

**Dean POV**

We pull into a crappy Bates motel wannabe, and Sam and Camie head inside to get us adjacent rooms. Taylor pops the trunk and we start setting bags on the ground. My eyes drift to her face and try to gauge if she's in the mood to answer questions. _Whatever, if she doesn't want to answer, that's up to her._

"So," I start, trying to sound both not too interested as well as congenial. "Did Bobby start taking care of you right after your parents died?" I'm a little concerned that I crossed some sort of invisible line when there's no immediate response, but a few seconds later I hear her sigh.

"Nah, our uncle took us in. He was a hunter, introduced us to the life."

I nod my head, but one word in particular sticks out to me. "He _was_ a hunter? Did he get out of the life?" I ask, even though I know he's probably dead; no one is truly able to quite being a hunter.

The smile she gives me is sad, but the sadness is replaced with anger in her eyes. "That sunova bitch died ages ago." Despite my best efforts, I recoil slightly from the venom in her voice. She must have caught the movement, 'cause she quickly shoots me an apologetic look.

Just as I'm about to ask her about it, Sam rejoins us, Camie trailing behind him. "We got room 20," Sam says, passing me a rectangular key card. Camie passes Taylor a similar card.

"19," she adds, and Taylor nods taking the offered card. We each grab a couple bags and head for the rooms.

While Sam's unlocking our door, I stop Taylor when she walks past me. "This conversation isn't over," I whisper, giving her a look that leaves no room for objection. Taylor just stares at me for a second before pushing me out of her way. She heads over to Camie who's fumbling with their key and muttering curse words. She grabs the card from her struggling sister and opens the door.

With one last look at me, she steps into their room throwing over her shoulder, "See you in the morning," before the door is closed with a certain finality.

**Taylor POV**

I may have been a little snippy with Dean. But I won't tolerate him or anyone else _telling, _not asking, _telling_ me what to do. Which is basically what he just did, I mean, that look he gave me? Please! I shake my head in mild annoyance as Camie claims the bed closest to the bathroom. She takes one of the bags from me and slides it under the foot of her bed. _Ah, must be the weapons,_ my mind registers as I remember that she was the one who had packed them earlier.

"So, what do you think of the Winchesters?" Camie asks, taking off her shoes to reveal mismatched socks with more holes than sock. "I noticed you were a little . . ." she pauses and makes a face as she tries to think of the word, ". . . short, with Dean just now. Did something happen while I was getting our room? 'Cause I can kill him if you want."

I just roll my eyes. "Shut-up! I like them just fine. Dean was just being a bossy jerk. Go take a shower kay?" Camie snorts, grabbing her stuff and heading for the bathroom.

"Speaking of being a bossy jerk . . . " She mutters, and I chuckle as I start unpacking. I hear the water turn on right before there's a knock on the door. My forehead scrunches in confusion and I quietly reach for the gun that's tucked into the back of my pants. Gingerly holding it in front of me, I undo the lock and keeping the chain in place, slowly open the door.

Sam and Dean are standing awkwardly on the sidewalk in front of our room, and Sam smiles at me when he sees me peering at them. "Sorry for the lateness, but can we come in?" he asks, puppy dog eyes on full display. I sigh heavily and slide the chain back, opening the door fully.

Turning back into the room, I take a seat on Camie's bed, setting my gun on the side table and watching as the boys take seats facing me. None of us start talking immediately, the silence only broken by the sound of running water from the bathroom.

After a minute or two, Sam tries to inconspicuously nudge Dean with his elbow. I raise my eyebrow in curiosity as Dean shifts uncomfortably before meeting my eyes. "Look, I'm sorry if I sounded like a dick out there. But I would like to know more about who I'm helping . . . Sammy here says I've got trust issues," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit. It works and I chuckle.

"Yeah, sure. Considering the job, I'd be confused if you did trust us." They both relax a little when I make it clear that I'm not upset.

Just then, the bathroom door opens and Camie comes out in only her underwear and a tank top, hair still dripping and soaking into her shirt. She's got a towel in her hands and is patting her face dry, so she doesn't notice her audience.

"Taylor, do you have a hair dryer? 'Cause I don't . . ." She trails off as she removes the towel and looks up noticing the brothers for the first time. There's a moment of silence as we all just stare at each other, before she clears her throat. "Well . . . awkward," she states, turning around and closing the door behind her once more. I slowly lower my head into my hands. _Why couldn't I have been blessed with a normal sister!_

When I glance up again, both brothers look like they're just barely holding back laughter. They lose the battle though when Camie bangs on the wall yelling, "Taylor! Hairdryer!"

Rolling my eyes, I snatch my hairdryer from my suitcase and open the bathroom door, shoving it through before taking my seat on the bed again. Deans the first to regain control, and we settle into a comfortable silence that's quickly shattered when he frowns, remembering our previous conversation. "About what we were talking about earlier . . . Will you tell me how you ended up with Bobby?" My smile falters, and I see Sam looking between the two of us, clearly trying to figure out the reason behind the tension in the room.

I purse my lips, readying myself to refuse. "Sure, we can tell you. But I doubt you're gonna like it," Camie's voice sounds from behind me and I turn to look at her as she comes up to my side, resting her arm on my shoulder. _At least she's dressed this time around,_ I think when I take in her sleep shirt and long pajama pants.

Sam looks like he finally understands what's going on, while Dean nods his head solemnly. "I figured. But I think we're more understanding than most about how some people's lives are screwed to hell," he intones.

Camie takes a seat next to me and grins. "Well then, here's our story boys."

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_**Alrighty folks! That's all for right now. PLEASE REVIEW! It keeps me writing :] Slight cliffhanger, but that's to keep you reading!**_


	7. Sharing Our Life

_**I AM SOOO SORRY ABOUT HOW LATE THIS IS! School and job hunting ate my life :3 Alright, since ya'll waited so long let's just get right to it!**_

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**Recap**

"Sure, we can tell you. But I doubt you're gonna like it," Camie's voice sounds from behind me and I turn to look at her as she comes up to my side, resting her arm on my shoulder. _At least she's dressed this time around,_ I think when I take in her sleep shirt and long pajama pants.

Sam looks like he finally understands what's going on, while Dean nods his head solemnly. "I figured. But I think we're more understanding than most about how some people's lives are screwed to hell," he intones.

Camie takes a seat next to me and grins. "Well then, here's our story boys."

**Sam POV**

I'm a little lost at first but from what I can tell, it seems as though Taylor must have said something to Dean about their past which pissed him off. When Camie says that she'll tell us about her and her sister's lives, I admit that I'm definitely interested; I mean come on! They're the youngest hunting team I've ever heard of. She settles herself on the bed opposite us and next to her sister, taking a deep breath.

"As you already know, our parents died when we were pretty young." She pauses and doesn't continue till we nod. "After they died, we were taken in by our mom's older brother. He was a hunter, had been since several of his friends got killed by a werewolf. He started training us to hunt from the moment he got custody. I was five the first time I shot a gun and seven the first time I helped on a hunt. Anyhow, he was like a lot of people in this line of work in that he liked to drink." Camie's lips curl up in a smirk at almost the exact time that Taylor's turn down in a grimace. "That man liked booze about as much as he liked shooting things. He was a mean drunk and was always screaming the roof off whatever motel we were at, blaming me and Taylor for killing our parents and ruining his life."

She stops again to catch her breath, and I use the opportunity to catch my own. There was once years ago, when John got plastered enough to blame me and Dean for our mother's death. It hurt like hell the one time he did, and I can't imagine what it would've felt like if he had said that every time he drank. Shifting my eyes over to Dean, I can see the reflection of buried pain in his eyes, and I realize he must have had the same memory. My eyes focus back to the sister's when I hear Camie sigh heavily.

"Without going into too much detail, one night a couple weeks after Taylor turned 12, he came home drunk, found me cleaning up some broken glass, and hit me; It was the first and last time. Taylor saw it happen, grabbed a gun and shot him close range through the heart. . . We burned the body and got the hell outta town."

I nod my head and clear my throat before asking, "Is that when Bobby found you?"

They look at each other for a second before Taylor answers. "Yes and no. He found heard about a couple of street urchin hunters, so he started a search for us, though it was a few years later by accident that he found us."

_**(Flashback) **_ "Yeah, I'm in town. Now calm down for a second and think Rufus! If you didn't kill that vamp nest then who did?" Bobby rolls his eyes as he hurries down the town's deserted streets on his way to the wasted vampire nest and the panicking hunter. Just as he passes another alley, noise from the shadows gets his attention. "I've gotta go Rufus," he mutters into the phone, hanging up and cutting the other hunter off mid-sentence. Quickly drawing his machete from his jacket, he carefully inches into the dark alleyway. Flicking on a small flashlight, he scans it over the trashcans and dumpsters, stopping when the beam illuminates two rather grubby and tense children's faces. Bobby immediately lowers the machete, but keeps the light aimed at the two young girls, taking in their appearance. They both look young, but one is obviously older than the other. They're wearing clothing that hangs off their skeletal frames, the material sticking to their filthy skin as they crouch on what looks to be a makeshift bed of ratty blankets and backpack pillows. The younger of the two watches the machete lower and something flashes across her face, her hand reaching back and snatching a pistol from one of the bags. She point it between Bobby's eyes, hand shaking as she draws the hammer back. "Balls!" He sighs and carefully sets the machete on the ground in front of him, holding his hands palm open to show no intended harm. They sit for a second before the older starts talking.

"Alright buddy, I don't know who you are and frankly I don't care. However seeing as how ya got one of these," she hold up the machete, "I think it's safe to assume that you're a hunter. If you came here for the vampires, you're too late; me and my sister just finished dealing with that particular problem. We'll be leaving here soon, so you don't have to worry about that either. Now that all the niceties are taken care of, what do ya say to just turning around and walking outta here?" She finishes and stares at him, waiting for him to do something.

Suddenly it clicks and Bobby's brows raise. "You're those kid hunters right?" The younger one wrinkles her forehead in confusion and turns to her sister, keeping the gun trained on him.

"What's he talking about? I thought we were flying under the radar!" Her sister just shakes her head though, looking about as confused.

Bobby chuckles a little and answers, "Well, hunting is about as far under the radar as you can get. We don't miss much, so when hunts started to get taken care of without any known hunters taking them, we started looking for a reason." He shifts uncomfortably before asking, "Can I put my hands down? Now that I know who ya are, I ain't got much of a reason to hurt you." They consider before nodding in consent. _**(End flashback)**_

"Anyway, Bobby wound up finding a hunter family that we stayed with for a couple years till I turned 16. It was after that when Bobby took us in, and around a year later that we took his last name," Taylor concludes, leaning back on her hands.

"I gather that it was around then that Bobby kicked your dad out of his house?" Camie questions, her brows coming together in curiosity.

"Yeah, I had just left for Stanford, so it was just our dad and Dean hunting together," I reply, looking at Dean. His features are schooled though and I don't see any indication of how he feels hearing that memory voiced.

"Stanford, huh? Ivy league." Camie makes a whistling noise through her teeth. "Impressive." Before I have a chance to respond, Dean speaks up.

"Yeah, he's always been the smart one. Always known what he's wanted." I hear pain in his voice which, although I expected it, still hurts. What I didn't expect was the pride in his statement. Hearing it causes a dull ache in my chest, and I discreetly blink a few times. "Well," Dean starts after a moment of silence, "you both have one hell of a story!" He chuckles and Taylor smiles a little almost in spite of herself. Camie yawns loudly, then blushes, clearing her throat and trying to cover her embarrassment. I feel myself start to grin at the display, despite knowing that it'll probably piss her off. Dean grins as well, going to stand. "Alright kid, I can take a hint. C'mon Sam, we should see about getting some shut eye." I get to my feet and we both head for the door.

"We'll see you guys in the morning," Taylor says as she follows us to the door to lock up after us. Dean agrees and the door snicks shut behind us. I follow Dean back to our room and take a seat on my bed while he walks to the bathroom. After a while, the toilet flushes and he exits, toothbrush in his mouth.

"You know, they kinda grow on you," I say and watch for Deans response. He spits into the sink before answering.

"I agree, they do grow on you . . . Like a fungus." I roll my eyes and he smirks, having achieved his daily goal of annoying me. "One thing's for sure though," he continues, "You can tell that they've lived with Bobby. . . Same snarky attitudes." The truth in that makes me smile; If I didn't know any better I'd think they're his biological daughters.

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_**Once more guys I'm so sorry that it took me this long to upload a chapter! The next chapter is already written though, so all I need to do is upload that one as well. . . A two-for-one :D Please review! They keep me going!**_


	8. Hunting Keeps Us Moving

_**Sorry about how long it took, but it's here now! Please leave reviews! They keep me going :D **_

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**Recap**

"You know, they kinda grow on you," I say and watch for Dean's response. He spits into the sink before answering.

"I agree, they do grow on you . . . Like a fungus." I roll my eyes and he smirks, having achieved his daily goal of annoying me. "One thing's for sure though," he continues, "You can tell that they've lived with Bobby. . . Same snarky attitudes." The truth in that makes me smile; If I didn't know any better I'd think they're his biological daughters.

**Dean POV**

The alarm goes off right as I'm about to go down on Jessica Alba. I groan and peel my eyes open, glaring at the destruction of my dream before flicking the alarm off and sitting up. My bleary eyes slide over to Sam's bed and am not surprised when I find it empty; _the kid always had a thing for early morning runs._ There's a note laying on the bedside table saying that Sam left to get breakfast and coffee.

The moment my feet touch the floor, a shiver runs through my body and I grimace, quick steppin' to the shower and turning the water to scalding. I relax under the spray for a few seconds before getting busy soaping up and shampooing. Sam's mint shampoo is sitting on the tub's ledge; I stare at it for several minutes, then quickly snatch it up and squirt it onto my hair. . . What Sam doesn't know won't kill him. When I step outta the shower several minutes later, I can tell that Sam is back from all the noise he's making in the room's kitchenette.

"Sammy! Did'ya get any pie?!" I holler as I start lathering my jaw with shaving cream.

"Why would I get pie at 7:00 in the morning?!" his frustrated voice returns. A smile quirks my lips and I hurry to finish shaving. By the time I'm dressed and leaving the bathroom, Sam has gotten our breakfast of donuts and coffee set out, opened his computer, and has started researching God knows what. _Nerd, always studying random shit. . . There's nothing in the world interesting enough to make me do research first thing in the morning._

I pop a donut in my mouth and suck the powdered sugar off my fingers, followed by a long drink of dark brewed coffee. There's a bag sitting on the floor by Sam's feet, and it looks like it contains more donuts. My forehead wrinkles in confusion and I pull the bag open to peek inside. "Sam?"

He drags his eyes from the screen to look at me. "What?"

"Why did you buy extra donuts?" His eyes widen for a second before he stands, grabbing the bag and heading for the door. "Sam?" I call again, trailing him outside where he stops in front of room 19. "Oh," I mutter as he raps sharply on their door. It takes a few minutes, but it eventually creaks open following the sound of a sliding chain. Camie's standing in the doorway dressed in black jeans and a t-shirt, hair in a messy ponytail.

Sam gives her a soft smile and holds out the bag. "I went out earlier for donuts and coffee, and I thought that you'd maybe like some as well?" I notice that even though he's sure of his decision, he still phrased it like a question, giving her an out if she didn't want to accept. Her face goes slightly blank for a second, before she grins and steps back a bit, inviting us in. Sam immediately looks relieved and I follow him inside, sending an appreciative look Camie's direction. We take seats in the kitchenette and watch as she walks to the bathroom. She pokes her head in after opening the door a crack.

"Hey Taylor, the boys are here; they brought donuts!" There's a loud enthusiastic reply from inside and Camie comes back over to the table chuckling. She sits down across from us and leans forward to grab a donut from the box, but stops mid reach, withdrawing her arm with a hiss of pain.

"What's wrong?" I ask before I remember that her back is torn up; sure enough, her answer is as expected.

"It's nothing, just my back acting up a little. I'll take some-"

"Pain meds," Taylor's voice cuts her off as the older plunks a bottle of pills in front of her sister, then grabs a pastry and hands it to Camie. "Thanks for the food guys," she adds, pouring cups of coffee for her and her sister from the small coffee pot provided by the motel. She mixes several packets of sugar into one and gives it to Camie, keeping the black coffee for herself.

"So," Camie huffs, slapping her hands down on her legs, "what's the plan for going after the witches?" Sam fingers his hair for a few seconds before responding.

"Well, we know where the one lives, so I guess we just follow her until she leads us to her coven." I agree with him, but there's one problem with this plan.

"Sam, if you remember, that's what they were doing when it all went to hell. I don't know if that'd be the smartest thing to do especially since they'll be expecting more hunters."

He considers this then agrees, "Yeah, it's too risky for you," he motions to the girls.

Taylor nods her head, "But not for you two. Here's what we'll do: you guys follow her and when you find the coven, call us before you go in. We can meet you there and take them out together."

My eyes shift over to Camie and discreetly watch her tight movements and pain thinned lips. "Are you sure you want in? I mean," I pause to clear my throat, realizing that the next words outta my mouth are gonna piss off the younger sister. "I mean, you're not really fit to be hunting," I say, directed towards Camie. When I meet her eyes though, it's very hard not to apologize. She's glaring daggers at me, her muscles more tense than before.

"I can assure you, I'm fine! This," she points to her back for emphasis, "will NOT slow me down."

The words are ground out from between her teeth and her mouth sliding into a sneer on the words "slow me down". I raise my hands a little and look to Sam and Taylor for help. Sam just shakes his head at me, while Taylor has a Cheshire grin plastered across her face. "Okay, fine. But you're not gonna get to go off on your own. . . You're goin' to have to always be with one of us." I look her dead in the face when I say this, showing her how serious I am about not letting her get herself killed. She starts to grumble, but her sister finally steps in and backs me up.

"I don't think you need to sit out on the hunt, but you do need a certain level of insurance in case you get jumped again." Taylor pauses and looks at me and Sam before continuing. "That being said, I don't think that any of us should be trying to take them on alone. We," motioning to her sister, "have taken on witches before, and they've never been as strong as these ones are. I don't know what they're doing, but these witches have some serious juice."

Sam nods his head, "Good point. . . Alright, while we're trying to find the coven, you should both do some research into what could be amplifying their power." He stands up and starts for the door, so I get up and go after him, turning around just before I leave.

"Make sure to check in if you learn anything. We'll call if we track down the witches." Once they both nod in understanding, I follow Sam back to our room and my quickly rediscovered cold coffee.

**Sam POV**

I slide around on the car's leather seat, trying and failing to get feeling back into my ass. We left the motel a couple hours ago and haven't heard anything from the sisters yet. I huff tiredly and start trying to conjure an image in my mind of all the areas around town that would work for housing coven meetings. I'm snapped out of my thoughts though, when Dean suddenly smacks the steering wheel.

"Friggin' witches man! I've said it before and I'll say it again; they're just plain creepy with all the spewing of bodily fluids, and the chanting, and all the dead little baby animals!" He sighs heavily, beginning to mess with the buttons on the dashboard. "And that's another thing; I want Baby back! I feel like I'm driving a spaceship." I roll my eyes and go back to my mental calculations, doing my best to tune out his continued grumbling. Just as I'm starting to get back into it Deans phone rings, startling us both. The guitar rift cuts off when he answers, putting it on speaker so we can both hear.

"Hey Dean, it's Camie. . .We found something."

"Awesome! Sam's listening too, so tell us whatcha got."

"Great, hi Sam. Okay, so we did a little digging and found out that if a witch were to tattoo or carve ancient Norse runes onto themselves, they could potentially be granted extra power. Basically instead of just using power granted by demons like what normally happens, they would also be using power from the old Norse gods."

Dean's forehead wrinkles in confusion before he asks, "Wait, what Norse gods?"

"Do you mean they're harnessing the power of Odin, Freya, and Loki?" I ask, bringing to mind memories from my mythology class I took at Stanford.

"To name just a few, yeah," she answers. "Although there's no way of knowing which god or goddess they're harnessing unless one of us can get a look at the runes."

I purse my lips and Dean scrubs a hand over his face. "Do we know how to break the connection if we are able to find the runes?" I question, not liking to think about how exactly we're gonna get to the runes, but having to ask anyway.

"Well," she starts, "we found a spell for summoning and trapping Norse deities, but the ingredients vary depending on which deity it is; you know, falcon feathers for Freya, black candles for Loki, raven skull for Odin, and so on and so forth."

Dean perks up a little and claps my shoulder. "Problem solved then! When this witch leaves her house, you follow her and I'll sneak inside and see if I can find anything about the runes, kay?"

I feel a bitch face coming on and am more than happy to display it for him. "No Dean, problem not solved! Going into her house alone, without knowing if there's anyone else in there? That's your big plan?!"

He gives me a smarmy grin and I can hear Camie chuckling on the other end of the phone. "Here's the thing Sammy, we need to get into the house to search for info on the runes. For us to do that, she has to leave the house. If she leaves the house, one of us needs to follow her in case she leads us to her coven. The only way we can do both those things without splitting up is if the girls get involved, and that's not an option right now." He stares at me for a second, his serious demeanor broken by the smirk that slips out at the sight of my clearly disapproving face. "Two options Sam, either you search the house or I do." He waits for an answer, and I don't have one, a smile splits his face and he pats my cheek. "That's what I thought Sammy." Dean turns his attention back to the phone. "Alright lady, call us if you find anything else, hopefully you'll hear from us soon." The phone clicks shut and we go back to waiting.

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_**Okay everyone! Hope that wasn't too boring, but here's a promise for next chapter: Hurt/Comfort seriously comes into play with Dean! *pinky swears* Oh, and just in case ya'll were wondering, all the stuff in this story about the Norse gods and their elements is true ;) **_


	9. Bind Me and Burn Me

_**Sadly, it has once more been longer than I would have liked since my last chapter upload! But at last, the new chapter is here, complete with LOTS OF DEAN WHUMP! *evil laughter* PLEASE REVIEW! I'm serious guys, reviews keep me motivated. Alrighty here we go. . .**_

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**Recap**

"Two options Sam, either you search the house or I do." He waits for an answer, and I don't have one, a smile splits his face and he pats my cheek. "That's what I thought Sammy." Dean turns his attention back to the phone. "Alright lady, call us if you find anything else, hopefully you'll hear from us soon." The phone clicks shut and we go back to waiting.

**Dean POV**

I guess I must've fallen asleep, cause before I know it, Sam's shaking me.

"Dean, wake up! She's leaving." I startle awake mid-snore, my eyes flicking around for a few seconds until they land on a red Volkswagen beetle pulling out of the witches' driveway.

Opening the door, I squeeze through the small opening and land on the pavement. I go to close the door, but just as it's almost shut, I stick my head back inside and right into Sammy's startled face. "Don't go after the coven by yourself. I mean it Sam . . . Wait for me!"

With that I back away from the car and start walking towards the house, listening to the engine purr to life as Sam roars off down the road. My gun slips from its holster smoothly, fitting perfectly in my hands as I slowly circle the house looking for a secondary entrance. There's a door off the kitchen and I tuck the gun into the waistband of my jeans, reaching down to pull a lock pick set from my boot. The sound of clicking gears and shifting tumblers hits my ears after the first ten seconds. _Good Lord, was this door made a hundred years ago?_

I step into the kitchen gun once more at the ready, but I never get a chance to use it. As soon as my foot touches the yellowed linoleum, I'm picked up and thrown all the way across the house, only stopping when my side slams against the brick fireplace. My breath leaves my lungs with a sudden 'whoosh', accompanied by the sound of something (or multiple something's) inside me snapping. Vision going black, the last thing I see are several pairs of feet walking towards me. _Dammit! Why did Sammy have to be right . . . _

**Sam POV**

_How many friggin new age stores are in this town?!_ I watch as the witch loads several more bags into her backseat, already overflowing with bags from various hippy stores. A sudden thought hits me and I pull out my cell, punching in Camie's number. It rings several times before she answers.

"Hello? Did you find the coven?" I smirk when I recognize excitement in her voice.

"No, not yet; I called because I need you to figure something out for me. . . You're not bored already right?"

A heavy sigh then, "What do ya need?"

I bite back my laughter and ask, "Can you check her credit records? She keeps buying things, and I thought that maybe whatever she's buying will give us a clue about which deity the coven is worshipping."

"On it . . . Hey Sam? Has Dean called with any info about the runes?"

I frown and check the clock; it's been over an hour. "No, I haven't heard from him. He hasn't called you?" She makes a negative noise over the clicking of her keyboard.

"Alright, the card history of one Julia Krouse. She's been buying an awful lot of sage and yarrow, along with ashes of a dragon, polished amber, and . . . Oh eww! Bones of a Norwegian forest cat."

I suck in a breath, "Norwegian forest cat? According to legend, didn't those cats pull Freya's sled?" More clicking carries across the phone line as she checks.

"You would be correct, Norwegian forest cats are typically associated with Freya. Oh, hold on a sec Sam," she says before I hear her talking to someone; _her sister I guess._

"Sorry about that, Taylor says she found something. I'm putting the phone on speaker." I hear a beep, and then Taylor's voice is carried through.

"Hey Sam. So I was looking through a book on Norse folklore and found a spell that contains the ingredients she's buying."

"Are they ingredients for a summoning spell?" I ask, hope bleeding into my voice.

"No, they're most of the ingredient makeup of an offering to Freya, asking for her protection."

My mind latches onto the phrasing. "Wait, most of? What's the rest of it?"

"A human. Which I'm kinda hoping she's not gonna pay for with a credit card," Taylor says in a poor attempt at humor. I flick my blinker on and trail Julia's car down a side street. My eyes start to narrow the further along we get as everything starts looking familiar. Finally realization hits and I scramble for the phone which I had on speaker sitting in the passenger seat.

"I have to hang up! She's headed back and I need to warn Dean!" Without waiting for their response, I end the call and hit speed dial one for Dean's number. "Please pick up, please pick up . . ." My chanting floats through the air, apparently having no effect as my call goes straight to voice mail. "Shit!" I fling the phone back into the passenger seat and grip the wheel till my knuckles turn white.

**Dean POV**

My head feels heavy and full, like there's cotton cushioning my brain. . . At least until the pain starts. It feels like a hot poker being jammed into my chest. _Great, something's definitely broken; probably some ribs and I'd guess my collarbone too._ I try to push through the fog of pain and get a feel for my surroundings, but the effort it takes nearly knocks me out again. By the time I manage to peel my eyes open, I'm fighting the urge to vomit and sweating like crazy. The room dips and sways, the walls and ceiling morphing together, the urge to hurl quickly getting too strong. _I think it's safe to add concussion to my injury list._

The smell of sick permeates the air as I give in, spilling my breakfast all down my front. Once the heaving tapers off I spit to the side getting rid of the taste, and try to assess my situation. I'm kneeling on the floor of what looks like a basement, hands chained above my head holding me up, stripped to my boxers, and now covered in vomit. My eyes slam shut as yet another wave of nausea rockets through my body. "Sammy," I groan, moving my wrists in the cuffs, testing how tight they are; the action though, jars my shattered collarbone. I bite off a scream, releasing instead a low whine. _C'mon Dean! Get ahold of yourself. . . You've had worse than this. _In answer to the mental pep talk, my body decides to be sick again. There's no food left in my stomach, so what comes out is stomach acid and saliva. I collect myself, inhaling deeply through my nose. Clearly I found the coven, but now I have no way of warning Sam and the girls.

Just as my head starts feeling like it's gonna explode from thinking so hard, the basement door creaks open and the sound of footsteps echoes off the walls. My chin drops to my chest in an attempt at feigning sleep; after all, the less of a threat I represent, the more they're bound to let slip. I make a conscious effort to breathe slowly and deeply when the footsteps slow, then stop completely in front of me.

The act ends abruptly though, my eyes flying open and head snapping to the side as unexpected pain shoots across the left side of my face. My body jerks involuntarily, the shackles clanging against each other. Her slap did nothing to help my concussion and my vison greys at the edges, a groan of discomfort slipping from behind my clenched teeth.

"I know you're awake Dean, and I would suggest not faking again." Her voice is low and rough like a chain-smoker's, her tone cold and dripping with condescension. It takes all my concentration, but I manage to drag my eyes up just enough to see her. She's thin, with a bottle blonde bob, a power suit, and entirely too much makeup.

"Sure thing sister; after all, you'd know a thing or two about 'fake' wouldn't you?" I send her a snarky grin, before my loud mouth earns me a sharp kick to my already broken ribs. "Sonuva' bitch!" I scream, my body trying to curl in on itself.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. . . You'd better watch that mouth of yours," she crouches so we're level with each other. Her hand reaches out and she combs her fingers through my hair, "I'm gonna enjoy hurting you. See, you're going to die in the end . . . but till then, I get to have some fun." Without warning, her hand shoots out and grabs my chin in a vice like grip. "And make no mistake, by the time I'm done, you will beg for the end." She lets go and steps around behind me.

Placing her hands on either side of my face, she mutters something in Latin; I only catch some of it, something about 'blood fire'. _Damn it! Why didn't I pay closer attention when dad was teaching us Latin?!_ I'm trying to think what 'blood fire' could mean, when she suddenly releases me. A second later and my entire body spasms as pain pierces through my veins.

"Ah! A-aAH!" I choke on a scream, my muscles contracting so tightly that the sound is muffled and guttural.

Her soft voice penetrates the haze of agony, "Shh, hush Dean. We're only just starting."

The pain ratchets up another notch and my vision goes black. _Sammy . . . _

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_**There ya go guys! Cliffhanger *gasp* Please Read and Review!**_


	10. Finding Dean

_**Alrighty, here's the next chapter guys! Sorry it took me forever, but first I had midterms, then stomach flu, and finally a trip out to Ohio *heavy sigh* Well, I'll try to get my act together! If you like this, PLEASE REVIEW!**_

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**Recap**

Placing her hands on either side of my face, she mutters something in Latin; I only catch some of it, something about 'blood fire'. _Damn it! Why didn't I pay closer attention when dad was teaching us Latin?!_ I'm trying to think what 'blood fire' could mean, when she suddenly releases me. A second later and my entire body spasms as pain pierces through my veins.

"Ah! A-aAH!" I choke on a scream, my muscles contracting so tightly that the sound is muffled and guttural.

Her soft voice penetrates the haze of agony, "Shh, hush Dean. We're only just starting."

The pain ratchets up another notch and my vision goes black. _Sammy . . . _

**Sam POV**

She entered the house ten minutes ago and Dean isn't answering his phone; _I think it would be reasonable to assume that Dean's been taken by the coven. _I purse my lips and push the car door open, walking around to pop the trunk. As an afterthought, I pull my phone out and call the girls. After about the third ring Taylor answers the phone. "Hey Sam, is Dean okay?" I sigh heavily and grab a gun from the trunk, tucking it into the waist band of my jeans.

"Nope, haven't heard from him, he's not answering his cell, and Julia's been home for a good ten minutes without making a fuss about some stranger being in her house. In other words, they've got him." With that, I pocket a canister of holy water; _better safe than sorry._

"Okay Sam, just wait till we get there!" Her voice crackles across the phone line, quickly followed by Camie's.

"I know you want to rush in there and get to your brother as soon as possible, but if you do that me and Taylor will end up having to haul both your asses to safety."

I grimace and slam the trunk, tugging at my hair as I quickly make a decision. "Fine! I'll wait, but get here fast. . . I don't know how long Dean's gonna last."

There's a loud click and the line goes dead, signaling that they're already on their way. My phone slips back into my jacket and the waiting game begins. _Dean, you better be alright when I find you!_

**Dean POV**

I'm swimming in an ocean of blood and fire. . . It feels like I've been floating here forever, trying to stay above the waves. When I'm not drowning then I'm being burnt alive, my skin bubbling on my muscles and dripping from my bones. _I'm dreaming, I must be. . . This isn't real, this isn't real . . . not real. . . _

That single thought keeps repeating over and over in my mind, not having any effect. It happens very fast; one minute I'm choking on my own tongue, and the next the burning sensation just stops. I'm suddenly once more aware of my hands chained above my head, my very real physical pain, and the lingering itch throughout my entire body from the invisible fire that had scorched my veins.

"Wakey, wakey Dean!" My tormentor's voice sing songs from behind me. I subconsciously tense my muscles when she brushes her fingertips along my spine, then groan in pain as the places she touched burn white hot before growing numb. Here breath flutters against my cheek in a way I would find hot, if not for the obviously bad timing. "You ready for some more fun? Your brother's probably gonna be here soon, but don't worry. . ." her tongue flicks against the shell of my ear, "he can join."

With practically nonexistent energy, I still somehow manage to open my eyes. My lips quirk into a bitter smirk. "Go to hell bitch!"

Eyes narrowing and face taught with rage, she hauls my arms back, in one quick second dislocating both shoulders and putting extra pressure on my snapped collarbone. A scream boils out of my chest, increasing in volume until I run out of breath.

"That's for the insult." Crossing the room, she picks up my knife that had been sitting on a table across the room with my other things. "This though, this is because I can." She digs the blade into the skin covering my stomach, painstakingly dragging it across in a horizontal line and creating a stripe of crimson blood. I bite through my lip trying to block out all the pain, and instead focus on getting out of here. Sammy should have noticed I'm missing by now, and hopefully he's called the sisters and is getting some sort of backup.

While I was thinking, she'd gotten behind me and started carving long vertical gouges along my back. I inhale sharply as one cut slides deeper than the others. My whole back feels wet, my head feeling muzzier than before; most likely I'm suffering from blood loss and shock. _No surprise there . . ._

"I-If you don't stop cutting me, I'm gonna die of blood loss sooner rather than later," I croak out, shocked at how weak my voice sounds. She must've noticed it too, 'cause she stopped slicing me.

"Ya know what? You're right, this is getting boring anyway." I sag against the restraints, putting extra strain on my dislocated shoulders, but I'm too tired to care. "I should think of something else for us to do . . . But while I do, I think you could do with a nap." My head jerks up, just in time to meet her fist head on.

**Sam POV**

I'm drawn from my thoughts by the angry rumble of a car that really needs a new muffler. Looking up, I'm surprised to Taylor and Camie get out of an old Honda Civic.

"You guys made good time," I greet as I straighten from my slouch against their car.

"Well, we didn't exactly drive the speedlimit," Taylor adds, adjusting the knife sticking out of her boot.

"After all, we got you both into this mess, the least we can do is get you out," Camie continues, loading her gun. I double check my weapons while they do the same.

"Okay, we're ready whenever you are; let's get your brother back." Camie's voice cuts through my reverie. I give a sharp nod and start walking towards the house taking the lead, Taylor bringing up the back, with Camie locked in the middle and therefore more protected.

We bypass the front door, quietly heading to the back of the house; there's a kitchen door along the side, but that's most likely the door Dean used. At the back of the house, a small window is slightly open and the curtains drawn back, allowing me a clear view of the kitchen and living room. Both rooms are unoccupied, the dead silence vaguely disturbing. I turn my head to get a better view of the living room; what I see leaves no doubt in my mind that the witches have Dean. _Damn it!_ The wood mantle is fractured, splinters of it scattered across the floor, along with bits of broken glass from the destroyed coffee table, and a spattering of blood. I motion at the window, and the sisters nod in agreement before I carefully begin lifting the window pane.

Once the opening is wide enough for me to fit, I lay my torso across the sill and drag myself through. Landing as quietly as I can, I turn and help pull first Camie and then Taylor into the room. I point to them, and motion to one side of the house, then repeat the motions with myself and the opposite side; they nod once more and break off, heading for the kitchen. Taking one last look around the living room, I start towards a side door and, praying it doesn't creak, I turn the handle. It opens onto a set of stairs that lead down into what looks like a dim basement. I hold my gun out in front of me and descend the stairs stepping on the outside edges, trying to avoid making any noise. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I turn the corner and immediately lower my gun. Against the back wall, wrists chained above his head, is a completely unconscious Dean.

I only spare a second to check the basement, before I'm dashing to him, sliding to my knees so we're level. "Dean! C'mon buddy, wake up!"

He's covered in blood and vomit, his skin overly icy and pale. _Oh my God! He's not waking up . . . I need to calm down; Do an injury check._ My hands shake as I gently slide them over his arms checking for broken bones; I cringe when they reach his shoulders, feeling the squish and pull of dislocated joints. Swallowing thickly, I move past his shoulders and down to his chest, stopping in horror when his collar bone bends easily beneath my fingers. A deep groan snaps me back and I focus in on my brother.

"Dean? You with me?" His green eyes creep open, hazy and glazed with pain. _Damn it. . . _Dean's pupils are blown wide and uneven, attesting to a severe concussion.

"Sammy?" His voice is shaky and rasps against his throat, but at least he's awake and talking. I smile in relief and set about trying to get him down.

"Yeah Dean, it's me. Don't do that to me again! We'll get you outta here soon." As soon as I finish saying that though, I feel him stiffen, a growl bursting from behind his gritted teeth. My head whips around, eyes locking on a figure half clothed in darkness, standing in the far corner.

"Well, hello there Sammy boy. . . Can't say we were expecting you quite this early." She steps from the shadows, platinum hair catching the light that's filtering down the stairs. Her ruby lips curve into a feral smile, her posture radiating a sort of animalistic hunger. "That's okay though, now we can have even more fun." And with that, her magic surges forward tossing me against the wall. _Shit!_

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_**Sorry everyone! That's all ya get for now :D PLEASE REVIEW, and I will do my best to get the next chapter up as soon as possible!**_


	11. Rescue Gone Awry

_**Sorry this took so long guys! School wasn't going so well, and then I had finals *heavy sigh* Anyway, here's the next chapter! Hopefully I'll be updating sooner now that my semester is over.**_

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**Recap**

"Dean? You with me?" His green eyes creep open, hazy and glazed with pain. _Damn it. . . _Dean's pupils are blown wide and uneven, attesting to a severe concussion.

"Sammy?" His voice is shaky and rasps against his throat, but at least he's awake and talking. I smile in relief and set about trying to get him down.

"Yeah Dean, it's me. Don't do that to me again! We'll get you outta here soon." As soon as I finish saying that though, I feel him stiffen, a growl bursting from behind his gritted teeth. My head whips around, eyes locking on a figure half clothed in darkness, standing in the far corner.

"Well, hello there Sammy boy. . . Can't say we were expecting you quite this early." She steps from the shadows, platinum hair catching the light that's filtering down the stairs. Her ruby lips curve into a feral smile, her posture radiating a sort of animalistic hunger. "That's okay though, now we can have even more fun." And with that, her magic surges forward tossing me against the wall. _Shit!_

**Taylor POV**

As soon as we separate from Sam, we settle into our usual hunting routine. Camie drops back till she's at my left side, our shoulders just barely touching, insuring we'll always know where the other is. We slip into complete silence, stepping lightly, the only noise a light creak here and there from the floorboards. The kitchen is clear, as are the mud room, bathroom, and study. Having cleared the downstairs, I turn my attention to the stairs. I tap Camie's shoulder, pointing at them when she looks at me. Receiving a nod, we climb the stairs and are greeted by a hallway lined with closed doors.

The first door opens to a bathroom dirty with disuse, a thick layer of dust coating every surface. We regroup outside the second door, Camie taking point; the door swings wide and Camie is immediately thrown to the side by an invisible force, her finger tight against the trigger and already firing as she hits the floor. I pull my gun up and compress the trigger, putting a tight pattern of bullets into the witch's chest; she drops, eyes closed and mouth open. Stepping over her, I help my sister to her feet and watch as she walks to the body, aims, and puts a single bullet through the dead woman's brain.

'Just checking', she mouths at me as we press ourselves to either side of the door. Two more women rush into the room, but come to an abrupt halt when they see their friend's body on the floor. Camie takes the first one of them out with a quick double tap which has the other whirling to confront us. Her eyes narrow to slits and her magic starts to build, tingling over our skin.

"You dare to enter this place on the day of sacrifice? Dare to bloody the air with our sisters' deaths?! The Grand Council will find you and-" I fire my gun and she falls dead next to the others. Camie turns to me, her brow creased in worry.

"Grand Council? That sounds vaguely ominous," she whispers. My stomach flips uneasily, but I just shrug and motion for us to continue on our way. _This 'Grand Council' could just be nothing, right?_

**Sam POV**

Several minutes after I'm jumped by the witch, all three of us are startled by the sound of gunfire coming from somewhere above us. _Taylor and Camie! I didn't tell them I found Dean! _ If I had full control of my body right now, I would steal a move from Dean and punch something. _They better not get themselves killed. _ A smile graces our captor's previously shocked face.

"I see you brought some friends. . . I admit, that does come as a surprise. I'm not particularly worried though; my sisters should be entertaining them right now."

Dean stirs restlessly in his kneeling position, "D-don't hurt 'em."

She laughs cheerfully, an odd sound given the situation. "Don't worry, I'm only interested in you boys."

If anything, her answer only served to make Dean more agitated. "No," he growls, managing to sound intimidating despite his appearance. "Leave Sam alone!"

"Dean!" I say sharply, upset that he's trying to sacrifice himself yet again.

Her laughter makes a reappearance, but this time there's something slightly crazed about it. "Aww! Could you two be any cuter?" She comes up to me and runs her fingers through my hair making me cringe, knowing that those hands had just recently caused my brother significant damage.

More gunshots from upstairs cause her fingers to still their movement while her face goes scarily blank. The house falls into a silence that's quickly broken by a bloodcurdling scream ending in a single gunshot. One handed, she smashes my head against the wall hard enough to make black sparkles pop behind my eyes; I groan as the sharp pain settles into a deep throbbing. She starts up the stairs having finally decided to discover what all the ruckus is.

"Give me just a second boys, I'll be back in a flash!" She calls over her shoulder before closing the basement door with a certain finality.

Despite my head painfully reminding me of its existence, as soon as she leaves the room and I can move again, I make my way to Dean. He's mostly out of it, a pained expression crossing his face every time he inhales; _broken ribs most likely._

"Hey buddy, let's get you down okay?" I slide my lock pick set from my boot and set about unscrambling the mess of tumblers inside the manacles that encase his wrists.

**Camie POV**

Taylor straightens having just checked the pulse of the latest witch we dropped. By now, we're both bloody and tired from being slammed into walls and furniture. My stitches have reopened, Taylor's got a gash on her forehead, and we're both sporting broken noses. Taylor grabs my attention and motions with her hand: one witch left. We still haven't seen Julia, even though she should be somewhere in the house. Footsteps sound on the stairs and our guns raise once more, expecting to see Julia. The woman who appears on the landing is not Julia or anyone else we recognize from our previous run in with coven. There's something about her that just seems. . . . wrong, off at a molecular level.

"Hello darlings! I would love to get to know you, but the boys are waiting so patiently." Her voice doesn't match her appearance, rough and deep like she's spent hours screaming. Both our hands tighten around our guns, before the metal unexpectedly begins blistering our skin. I drop mine immediately, but Taylor fires a shot before releasing hers with a hiss. The bullet flies through the air, slamming into this psycho (_well, more than usual_) witch. Her body shudders as the bullet buries itself in her right shoulder, but she doesn't make any noise or break eye contact.

"Well now, that wasn't very nice."

**Dean POV**

I come to when I feel one of the cuffs slide from my bruised wrist. Without the tension of the cuff though, the left side of my body starts to sag and stress my injuries. I try to ready myself for when the other manacle opens, but there's not enough strength left in my muscles to hold myself up when with a loud clang, the second cuff falls away. My half-conscious slide to the floor is halted by Sam's arms looping around my middle and pulling me back against his chest.

"Shh, we're gonna get you outta here Dean. God, you're such a mess. . ." he stops talking as his voice cracks. I muster up enough energy to give his arm a gentle tap and get his attention.

"m'fine," my voice grates against the walls of my throat, coming out rattily and weaker then I'd prefer. "Taylor an' Camie?" I question breathily, trying to squirm my way to a more comfortable position in Sam's arms. He rearranges me until I sigh in relief.

"I don't know; their upstairs somewhere." No sooner have the words left his mouth than another gunshot sounds from above us. I struggle to get to my feet, Sam protesting loudly as my knees start wobbling. The silence from upstairs is too all encompassing and my heart quickly picks up its pace when thoughts of what might be happening to the girls go through my head.

Air is just barely squeezing through my lungs, my breath coming out my lips with a wheezing wet noise. I figure I've got about one minute before I hit the ground hard; using Sam as a pole, I pull myself till I'm more or less standing upright and try to push through my tunnel vision. _Maybe one minute was a little too optimistic._

"C-c'mon Sammy, gotta go," I mutter, throwing my arm around his shoulder and gripping the front of his shirt to keep myself vertical, ignoring the shooting pain from my collar bone and dislocated shoulders. He loops one arm around my waist, trying to avoid putting pressure on my ribs or back.

"Ready Dean?" Sam looks at me, concern evident in his eyes and hair flopping into his face. I give a jerky nod and with Sam's help, start moving forward. When we pass the back table that holds my things, I come to a stop.

"Guns," I grunt at Sam, groaning slightly when his arm squeezes my ribs as he bends to retrieve our weapons and my clothing. Holding our belongings with one arm and supporting me with the other, Sam begins helping me up the stairs.

By the time we reach the main level, my projected minute is long gone and I'm fighting to remain conscious. Sam has slowly taken on more and more of my weight until he's now the only thing between me and the floor. Over the ringing in my ears, I can hear the crazy witch's voice floating down the stairs.

"I'm gonna peel your skin from your bones, all without killing you. I mean, why settle for one sacrifice when we could have four?" she laughs, her voice shrill and manic. Sam sinks to one knee, lowering me to the ground and leaning my back against the wall. He stands and silently chambers a round in his gun, before stooping to help me stand again, leaving my stuff where I had been sitting.

This time around the room begins to spin, forcing me to close my eyes in order to deal with the nausea. Sam starts up the second flight of stairs with me in tow, both of us doing our best to be dead quiet, all the while listening to the rantings of the witch.

"You little whores thought you would waltz in here, kill us all and be on your way, but now you'll die just like the ones you killed. Don't worry, I'll make sure we have a little fun before you go."

We reach the top of the stairs and while I'm struggling to breathe, Sam aims his gun at the back of her head and fires, the bullet puncturing through her skull. Time seems to drag for the following seconds, no one daring to breathe or talk; the spell breaks when she turns to face us, a gaping bloody wound decorating her forehead, her eyes coal black.

"E-exorsamus te, omis immundus s-spiritus, omnis satanica p-potestas, omnis incursio -" my lips begin forming the words to exorcise a demon, voice trembling with exhaustion. The demon roars and I'm yanked from Sam's arms, landing in front of the sisters; they're both pinned to the wall, faces bloody and hands burned. I cough, trying to clear the burning in my chest, and feel liquid dripping down my chin. _Damn it. . . _"You b-both look like shit," I groan up at them earning myself a strained chuckle from Camie.

"You need a mirror buddy," she says through clenched teeth.

Sam's voice registers in my brain, picking up where I left off in the exorcism. "Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica! Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica -" the demon grip his neck and the words slowly taper off.

"Adjuramus te! Ab insidiis diaboli libera nos Domine ut ecclesiam tuam secura -" Taylor jumps in, but doesn't last long before she has the air slammed out of her.

"Tibi facius libertate servire te rogamus -" Camie doubles over, an invisible force squeezing her lungs.

I pull in a deep breath and, as loud as I can manage, scream the final words, "Audi nos!"

Thick black smoke bubbles from the witch's mouth, then picks up pace and disappears out the window. Her dead and now empty body falls to the ground releasing Sam's throat and leaving him gasping for air. My brain decides it's finally had enough and starts shutting down.

"Sammy," I mutter as darkness slides over the world.

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_**I should post again soon-ish, sorry about the wait guys! If anyone has any suggestions with what they want to happen, just let me know and I'll consider it :D**_


	12. All Well at Last Right?

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long, but I was having some difficulties thinking of what to write :/ Anyway, here's the next chapter!**

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**Recap**

Thick black smoke bubbles from the witch's mouth, then picks up pace and disappears out the window. Her dead and now empty body falls to the ground releasing Sam's throat and leaving him gasping for air. My brain decides it's finally had enough and starts shutting down.

"Sammy," I mutter as darkness slides over the world.

**Sam POV**

I greedily suck air down my abused windpipe, quickly blinking away the tunnel vision. As the ringing in my ears begins to fade, I can hear Taylor and Camie calling to me, a hint of desperation in their voices. "Sam, get your ass over here! Your brother needs a hospital two hours ago." Taylor yells at me from her spot kneeling next to Dean's head. Camie's sitting next to her, her finger's pressed against Dean's neck measuring his pulse. . . Judging by her facial expression, it's not good.

I stumble to my feet and haul myself over to them. "Help me get him up," I instruct, my voice raspy and shaken. They each grab one of his arms as I grab him gently around the chest, their faces going from worried to horrified once they realize that both of his shoulders are dislocated. "One of you will need to drive, and the other needs to grab Dean's stuff on the way out," I say as I shift Dean's weight from the girls to myself, picking him up when it becomes clear that he's not going to be waking up. We hurry down the stairs, Camie grabbing Dean's belongings as she passes them, and pile into the car with Taylor driving, Camie riding shotgun, and me in the back cradling Dean in my lap. With my hand on his back, I can just barely, feel his heartbeat, fluttery and irregular. _My God Dean! Do not die on me. . . We just lost dad, I cannot lose you too. _ A low moan startles me from my thoughts and I jump in my seat, slightly jostling Dean. He inhales sharply, his eyes flying open and his body going rigid. His eyes are glazed and his uneven pupils are expanding and contracting in strange intervals. _Shit. . . He's going into shock._ "Step on it Taylor!"

**40 Minutes Later**

We got to the hospital about thirty minutes ago and as soon as the doctors saw Dean, they were shouting orders and he was whisked away. I'm holding a clipboard full of questions and info about Dean that one of the nurses at the front desk had given me, but I'm still only on the third question and I've got several more pages to go. Taylor is perched on an ugly plastic waiting room chair, sporting a perfect row of black stitches on her forehead. Her face is set in lines of worry and restlessness, a fine crease deforming the skin between her eyebrows.

My fingers twitch and I anxiously tap the pen against the clipboard in my hands. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. . . No word yet on Dean. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. . . My eyes flicker towards Taylor again, taking in the annoyed look she's directing at the pen in my grasp. Tap-tap-tap- I feel a pressure on my arm and look up, surprised to see Taylor right in front of me.

"If you move that thing again, I'm gonna shove it so far down your throat you'll be crapping ink for weeks."

I sigh heavily and release my hold on the pen, letting her take it from me. No sooner is it removed from my hand though, than a cup of coffee is taking its place. My eyes raise to see Camie pass Taylor a cup, before taking the empty seat between us. She sips carefully from her steaming beverage, then glances back and forth at me and Taylor before grabbing the pen from her sister and the clipboard from me. Her eyes skim over the pages, her fingers moving every so often as she fills in some of the most basic questions about 'patient condition'.

"Is Dean allergic to anything that you know of?" Camie's voice is rough with exhaustion and her writin hand shakes with light tremors.

"He's allergic to Roxicet as far as medications go. His only other allergy is mushrooms."

She nods and writes down my answer. "Is he on any medication?"

I shake my head. "No."

It continues like this for several minutes, Camie asking questions about Dean then writing down my answers, till the entire packet is complete. She caps the pen and hands the clipboard to a passing nurse, giving the woman a tired smile and a muttered thanks as she walks away.

"Dean will be alright Sam," she says as she takes another sip of her coffee. Camie notices me watching her and nudges my cup. "Drink," she orders, staring at me until I comply with her wishes.

**Taylor POV**

I hate these chairs. No really, I'm pretty sure that they're evil. We've been sitting here for just over two hours with no news on Dean's condition. Sam's been getting more and more twitchy and agitated, and Camie is snoring so hard that the walls are rattling, which is not helping my growing frustration. I shift for what must be the hundredth time and kick Camie's shin. She jolts awake mid snore, catches her breath, and settles back in her seat glaring at me.

"What was that for?"

"You were snoring so loud you probably woke up the bodies in the morgue."

Her face scrunches into a pout. "I don't snore."

Sam snorts a laugh, sending coffee shooting from his nose, and Camie turns death rays on him, shutting him down in a few seconds.

"Family of Dean Winchester?" A doctor in mint scrubs calls from a little ways down the hall.

Sam jerks to his feet so quickly, that his chair would have fallen if not for Camie's reflexes. "How is he? Is he alright?" Sam flings his questions as he rushes forward.

"Yes, your brother is fine Mr. Winchester. He's stable and is being moved to a private room as we speak," the doctor says, smiling slightly when he sees Sam's shoulder's drop with relief. Dr. . . I peer at his name tag, 'Beverly', skims through the chart in his hand before continuing. "Dean is suffering from a severe concussion; we reset both of his dislocated shoulders, stitched up the cuts on his back and stomach, and placed a pin in his collarbone to hold it together. He also suffered heavy blood loss, but as I said, we've managed to stabilize him. There was something that concerned me . . . Dean's readings show that he recently suffered from a massive stroke from an unknown cause.

**Sam POV**

My heart nearly stops; _A stroke? And a MASSIVE one at that?_ "B-but he's okay right? I mean. . ." My sentence trails off, a demand for Dean's wellbeing dying on my lips. The doctor gives me a sympathetic look before smiling somewhat reassuringly.

"All signs point to him recovering from this just fine, although the fact that he's even still breathing is a miracle. With all the damage done to his body and considering the stroke, by all rights your brother should be dead."

I clench my fists and square my shoulders. "He's a fighter," I declare as though daring the doctor to deny it. Instead, he nods in agreement then checks his pager which had been going off.

"Ah, good! It seems that Dean has been settled into his room. I'll have one of the nurses show you the way." With that, he shakes all of our hands before sending a pink clad nurse over and heading off down the hall.

"He's a pleasant sort of fellow," Camie says in a faux British accent, breaking the silence and causing me and Taylor to roll our eyes in unison. The nurse, a middle aged red haired woman who introduced herself as Mary, shows us down a long hallway and into an elevator, pressing the button for the third floor. When the doors chime open, she ushers us out and to the second door on the right. After asking if we need anything else, she disappears the way we came, and I slowly enter Dean's room.

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**Again, so sorry that it took me this long to upload! I'll try to be faster next time guys. If any of you have ideas for what should happen next, let me know :D**


	13. Heartfelt Secrets

**Hi guys, I thought this would be posted way sooner but first my uncle died, then my cat died, and finally I had issues with my summer class! So, I apologize for this being so late, but shit happened ;) Alright! Here we go!**

***Thanks to Emie16 for suggesting the idea for this chapter!**

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**Recap**

I clench my fists and square my shoulders. "He's a fighter," I declare as though daring the doctor to deny it. Instead, he nods in agreement then checks his pager which had been going off.

"Ah, good! It seems that Dean has been settled into his room. I'll have one of the nurses show you the way." With that, he shakes all of our hands before sending a pink clad nurse over and heading off down the hall.

"He's a pleasant sort of fellow," Camie says in a faux British accent, breaking the silence and causing me and Taylor to roll our eyes in unison. The nurse, a middle aged red haired woman who introduced herself as Mary, shows us down a long hallway and into an elevator, pressing the button for the third floor. When the doors chime open, she ushers us out and to the second door on the right. After asking if we need anything else, she disappears the way we came, and I slowly enter Dean's room.

**Sam POV**

The lights in the room are dimmed, and the only sounds that can be heard are from the heart monitor as it slowly tracks Dean's heartbeat. His arms are folded into a single large immobilizing sling that fastens behind his back so as not to aggravate his broken collarbone. Giant swatches of white gauze cover his stomach, and I assume that his back looks about the same.

I carefully step around the wires surrounding the bed, taking advantage of Dean being unconscious in order to stroke his sweaty hair back from his forehead. It's only then that I realize the girls are still standing in the hallway.

"It's okay, you guys can come in," I say, smiling and motioning to the as yet unoccupied chairs encircling Dean's bed. They nod appreciatively and file in, taking the seats I offered them. "That was quite the list of injuries you racked up there dude," I mutter to him as I settle myself into my own white plastic chair.

The silence folds around us, comforting after the ridiculous day we just finished. I eventually fall into a light sleep, reassured by the dual presence of Taylor and Camie.

**20 Minutes Later**

I feel someone shaking me to consciousness, sleep slowly losing its grip on me. Opening my eyes, I see Camie directly in front of me, her hand on my arm.

"Sam, Dean's waking up."

Before the words are fully out of her mouth, there's moaning from the bed. Two very drowsy and confused green eyes land on me as Dean's eyes flutter open. I stretch forward and put my hand on his chest as a grounding point.

"Welcome back Dean. How're you feeling?" He groans and blinks hard several times before answering.

"Like shit that got hit by a bus." His voice is rough and grating, most likely due to all the screaming done during his torture; it probably won't help, but I pour him a glass of water anyway. Dean grudgingly accepts my assistance in drinking it, seeing as how both his arms are immobilized, then shakes his head slightly signaling that he's done drinking.

"So what happened? I remember that we exorcised a demon, but what happened while I was out?" Dean questions, his face a mask of confusion and curiosity. "And for that matter, what happened while Sam and I were in the basement?" Camie and Taylor glance between each other, then at me, before Taylor finally answers.

"While you guys were in the basement, Camie and I took out all the witches except for Julia Krouse, or at least we thought we did. We didn't know about the witch/demon that had been keeping you company." I pick up where she left off, and reply to the Dean's first question.

"As for the first question, after we exorcised the demon, you passed out and we hauled ass to the hospital."

He sits quietly for a few minutes, then pins me with his stare. "How bad is it?"

I sigh heavily and place my arms on the edge of his bed. "Severe concussion, 2 dislocated shoulders, broken collar bone, heavy blood loss, deep lacerations on your stomach and back, and. . . and the doctor said you had a massive stroke." Dean whistles through his teeth and musters a weak grin.

"What do you think Sammy? I think this might be a record." I roll my eyes, my lips quirking despite my best efforts.

"Why do you gotta joke about everything, huh?" He waggles his eyebrows, his grin growing.

"What can I say? It's a gift."

**Camie POV**

Dean's asleep again and Taylor and Sam left about a half hour ago to go pick up something to eat, as well as to update Bobby and get all the blood out of the car. The dim lighting in the room is making me drowsy, and my head slowly dips down to my shoulder, the stress from the last day or so taking its toll. Just as my eyes have slid shut, I hear my name being called from the hospital bed.

"Camie," Dean rasps, his voice not sounding improved at all since earlier. I sit up and blink sleepily, clearing my throat before answering.

"Yeah Dean, what's up?"

He looks at me apologetically, trying to scoot himself farther up in his bed. I quickly get to my feet and pull him forward so he's propped against my chest while I fix his pillows for him, then help him lie back.

He coughs and grins sheepishly. "Sorry to wake you up, but I didn't see Sam anywhere and I really need a drink of water. I would've called the nurses station but," he looks pointedly at his restrained arms, "that's a little tricky right now."

The water pitcher is on one of the side tables and I select a plastic cup, filling it with lukewarm water and dropping a straw in it, assuming he'll want as little help as possible. I place it on a wheeled table that swings out over the bed, moving it so he can get a drink whenever he wants just by moving his head.

"It's no problem, I wasn't really sleeping anyway." He doesn't quite look like he believes me, but he lets it go. It's quiet for a for several minutes after I sit back down, the lighting nearly putting me to sleep again before Dean gets my attention once more.

"Why did you keep hunting after your uncle died?" He asks it softly and hesitantly, making it seem as though my answer is incredibly important to him. I consider the question for a few seconds, then sigh heavily, resting my forearms on my knees.

"Well, I. . . I guess just because at that point it was all we really knew. At first it was to get revenge for our parents, but past a certain point, that started not mattering anymore. Now we just. . ." I repeat my earlier sigh and scrub my hands across my eyes. "Now we just do it because there's nothing else we can do." Dean's head is pressed into the pillows, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he considers my answer. I let the silence rest before asking, "Why are you still hunting now that your dad's dead?"

His jaw clenches and after several moments I start wondering if he'll actually answer me. I'm about to give up waiting for him to respond, when he finally says, "It's the same reason in a way. . . Sammy needs to keep hunting, and there's no way I'm gonna let my bother do this alone." He pauses and turns to look me in the eye. "It's really just a survival thing."

I smile slightly and nod my head. "I understand."

He returns my smile and settles back further against the pile of pillows. "I thought you might."

Stretching, I sink lower in my chair, my ass numb from sitting in the unforgiving plastic for so long. "In case you were wondering, Sam and Taylor went to find us something to eat," I tell Dean, my sentence ending in a giant yawn that makes my jaw pop with its intensity. He grins at me, his eyebrows raising.

"Get some sleep kid. Sorry I woke you up."

I go to shake my head, but my eyelids are already sinking down, and before I know it I'm out like a light.

**Dean POV**

I watch her head drop onto her chest, her multicolor hair falling around her face like a curtain. My eyes refocus on the ceiling tiles, mapping the series of white squares hovering over me. I hadn't meant to ask her that question, but it just slipped out, maybe because of the awesome pain meds they have me taking.

Her question is still floating around in my mind, and the last remnant of my smile fades. The answer I gave her had been mostly true. What I hadn't told her was that I constantly think about getting out of this life. . . That as soon as I hunt down the thing that killed our mom and dad I plan to stop hunting, get Sam back in college, then maybe go work with Bobby or something. I glance at Camie again as she lets out a particularly loud snore. Sighing, I close my eyes and wait for Sam to come back.

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**Read and review please! It encourages me to keep writing ;) Once more, sorry about the delay and I'll try to get the next one up soon.**


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